


Beauty and the Reid

by WrecklessImagine



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fear, Fluff, Love, Romance, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 22:26:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5433065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrecklessImagine/pseuds/WrecklessImagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Beauty and the Beast adaptation of Spencer Reid and the reader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. So Long Ago

It had been a year since you had last seen Spencer. One year since the fire. One year since you had heard his voice or touched his hand or seen his face.

And you missed him.

That fire ravaged the house. You and the team had begged him not to run in. You tried to convince him that it wasn’t worth it, that sometimes you couldn’t save everyone. That the life of a stranger wasn’t worth the life of the best agent they had.

But he ran in anyway.

And you almost couldn’t get him out.

When you rushed him to the hospital, all he could do was stare. He was in such shock, and as you held his hand that day and told him that you were there, that things were going to be ok, you knew in the pit of your stomach that things had changed.

Forever.

Spencer never did come back to work. Hell, he hardly let any of you into his apartment. He would tell the live-in nurse that he didn’t want visitors, and that was that.

And it broke your heart.

You never had a chance to tell him that the reason you tried talking him out of saving that little girl was because you loved him. Because you couldn’t live without him. Because every other man you had ever loved and respected would always do stupid stuff to protect you, and every single one of them ended up in the ground.

And that you didn’t want that to happen to him, too.

But you never saw him again once he left the hospital. He never even told you he was getting discharged. And that day you stood at the foot of his empty bed, crying for the first time in years.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You ended up buying Spencer a house. A mansion, really. When your family died, the media coverage didn’t go thru the proper channels needed to run the story, and you sued the pants off of every single one of them. You won, invested wisely, gave yourself a monthly allowance, and never lived dramatically. And before you knew it, you realized you didn’t needed to work.

Not if you didn’t want to.

So you took some of that money and you bought him a house. You furnished it with the nicest furniture and added an entertainment center with access to all the movies in all the languages he would ever need. You tacked on an indoor pool with a hot tub, and made sure that fresh groceries were delivered to his door twice a month.

And yet, nothing.

You had no issues taking care of Spencer. You loved him more than any man that had ever come in, or gone out of, your life.

But still? Nothing.

And you didn’t know if you would ever hear from him...if you would ever see his face or feel his touch or watch him smile again...until that phone call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Still in shock from hearing his voice, you stand at the entrance to his house. Knocking on the door, it slowly creaks open.

“Spencer?” you say into the door crack.

“Come on in,” a voice from afar beckons.

As you step in, the door shuts behind you. Moving your hand along the wall to find the light switch, you switch the chandelier on, and you catch a shadow-like figure dashing into the corner.

As you take a step towards it you hear Spencer say, “Please, don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you call out, “If you won’t let me see you, then why am I here?”

Hearing nothing but his breathing, he sighs and says, “Because I’m lonely.”

“Then let me see you. You won’t be lonely, then.”

Another pause. “I-I uh...I already have movers at your apartment. They are packing up your clothes and books and are moving them into your room.”

As the hair on the back of your neck stands up, you shiver. “What do you mean, ‘my room’?”

“Your room. Here. So I won’t be lonely anymore.”

Sighing, you shake your head. “Spencer, you can’t just...change my life...take me hostage...and expect me t-to just uproot and live here with you. I have a job. Remember, the one you left?”

Buckling, you hear a ragged breath. “Is that what you feel like...a hostage?”

“Well, you haven’t given me much of a choice.”

Another deafening pause. “I won’t hold you here if you don’t want to be here. But I know that you don’t have to work. I know that you choose to in order to fill your time. I know that, in reality, you are just as lonely as I am.”

Feeling a catch at the back of your throat, you pick up your phone and call Hotch. “H-Hey, Aaron. Yeah, yeah I’m ok. About that vacation time you were imploring I take, how long is it? Would it be inconvenient to start it now? I’m not feeling too well, and I figure I’ll just take the vacation time I’ve earned and get myself feeling better. No no, don’t use my sick days, just the vacation time will be enough. Alright, I’ll let you know.”

Hanging up your phone, you say, “I have 3 weeks.”

Hearing an uptick in his voice, Spencer says, “Wonderful, let me show you to your room.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In reality, what he meant was “follow my shadow and it will grace the big ass door to the room you will be sleeping in.” He still wouldn’t let you see him, and your heart ached to hold him again.

“Spencer...?” you call out.

“Yes, Y/N?”

As tears crest your eyes, your voice cracks. “Will I...will you ever let me see you? Touch you...?”

Sighing, you hear Spencer walk away. Letting the tears fall down your cheeks, you open up the door to see all of your things moved into your room...which was, in and of itself, bigger than your apartment.

And just before you shut the door, you hear Spencer say, “Dinner will be at 6.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a long bath in the luxurious tub, and doting on yourself for picking out such beautiful furniture, you dress yourself up for dinner. You hoped that if you made yourself appealing enough, he would muster the confidence to step out of the shadows.

Wandering around the mansion, you finally find the dining area. And to your disappointment, only one place setting is decorated.

Feeling your heart sink to your stomach, you sit down at the table. A butler appears at your side, asks you for your drink order, and hands you a note.

I hope you enjoy dinner. It’s your favorite: honey glazed salmon with basil roasted mixed vegetables and tiramisu for dessert, followed by a nice cup of Irish coffee.

Smiling to yourself, the butler sits down a glass of water along with a light salad. Lightly grabbing the butler’s hand, he bends over and you whisper, “Will Spencer join us?”

As the butler slowly shakes his head, he whispers back, “But if you talk, he will hear.”

Nodding your head in thanks, he leaves you be, and an idea pops into your head, and as you start to eat dinner, you cue up your voice and start singing Giacomo Puccini’s “La bohème.” After all, it was his favorite opera, and you knew the entire thing by heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking your Irish coffee to go, you start to wander around the mansion. Realizing that, while you didn’t see him, Spencer was watching your every move made you feel...welcome. While you longed for his touch, you were glad that you could finally provide some in-person comfort for him.

After navigating some of the halls, you hear his voice in the distance. “Follow the sound of my voice, I have a surprise for you.”

Smiling, you turn around. “Alright, here I come.”

“How did you enjoy dinner?” he questioned.

“I should be asking you that same question,” you retorted with a sly grin.

“I have missed your singing, Y/N,” Spencer lowers his voice. “It was always so soothing to me. Like when you sang to me in the hospital.”

Stopping you in your tracks, your breath gets ragged. “Yo-...you heard me? In the hospital?”

Hearing his feet stop, Spencer says, “Yes, every word.”

Your lip starts to quiver as you realize that all this time he knew. He knew your feelings and he knew your wants and he knew your passions and your madness and your...your ever-present need for him.

“Come on, we’re almost there,” Spencer urges.

As you two continue talking, you find yourself standing in front of a huge set of double doors.

“Go on, open it,” Spencer urges.

You could hear the anticipation in his voice. Pushing all of your body weight onto the doors, they finally give way and throw themselves open, and as you flip on the lights and look inside, your jaw gapes open.

Inside was a beautiful, floor-to-ceiling, front-to-back shelved library. Stacked with every book in every language and genre you could have imagined. Couches and chairs were everywhere, day beds in nooks and pillows in crannies. Two different fireplaces and a huge rolling ladder to reach even the highest of shelves.

As you stand there gaping at his construction, you feel a hand on the small of your back.

“Don’t turn around.”

Holding your breath, Spencer presses his body up against your back. Shuddering at his warmth, tears spill down your cheeks.

As he wraps his arms around you, you slide your hands up and down his arms, but your left hand stops when the texture of his skin changes abruptly.

His burns.

You feel Spencer go to pull away and you catch his arm. You fight his tug, pulling his arm in front of you so you can look at it. Hearing his breath catch in his throat, your tears drip onto his arm as you slowly kiss all of the crevices of his burn scars.

Letting go of his hand, you keep your back to him. “You made this for me, didn’t you?”

Hearing Spencer’s voice crack, he whispers, “I was hoping it would make you to stay.”

As your jaw trembles with hurt and honor and longing, you take a step away from him towards the library.

“Under one condition.”

“Anything,” Spencer begs.

“You may rob me of your presence, and you may rob me of your sight, but please...I beg you...do not rob me of your touch.”

And as you hear the double doors shut behind you, you collapse to your knees, sobbing under the weight of all that had happened, and all that was to come.


	2. What Have I Done?

Picking yourself up off of the floor, you look around the dimly lit library. Overwhelmed by its beauty, you stroll over to one of the fireplaces, already set up for lighting. Taking a piece of newspaper, you strike a match, light it up, and toss it into the fireplace. After stoking the fire for a while, you venture around the library for something to read.

Making your way up to the second level of the library, you notice that one of the corners is darker than the others. As you slowly make your way towards it, you squint at a sign that says, “Romance.”

“But Spencer doesn’t like romance…” you mutter to yourself.

Moving in closer to the books, you realize that they were, in fact, romance novels. Picking one up, you flip open the cover and gasp.

You put it back, pick up another, open the cover, and gasp again. Over and over and over, the same reaction to each book.

They were all first additions.

Every. Single. One of them.

As you pull out another romance novel to open up, a slip of paper comes tumbling out of the shelf.

_I know how much you enjoy losing yourself in a beautiful romance, so here are the best._

“Oh Spencer,” you sigh with a smile on your face. Taking the book down with you, you make your way back towards the fire. You settle down into a comfortable chaise lounge, crack open the book, and lose yourself within its pages.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awaken with a start. You had fallen asleep in the library the evening before, your book on your chest and the fire slowly dwindling down, and you were suddenly hungry. Wiping the sleep from your eyes, you use the ribbon tying your hair back to bookmark your place in your novel. After all, you were not going to bunny-ear a first addition.

Placing the book on the lounge, you start for the double doors, only to realize they are already open.

“Spencer…?” you call out tentatively.

“Good morning, Y/N,” you hear him say.

As a smile crosses your lips, you look around for him. “How did you sleep last night, Spencer?”

“Wonderfully, knowing you were here.”

As your face flushes, you realize how awful you must look. “I am going to go clean up quickly, and then see about getting some food.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Spencer muses.

Not knowing what else to say, you start for the double doors.

“Y/N?” Spencer asks.

“Yes?” you say, a little too eagerly.

“Thank you for staying,” you hear a catch in his voice.

“Thank you…,” you open out your arms, “…for this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Making your way to the dining area, your hair still wet from your shower, you are disappointed to see, yet again, only one place setting.

As the butler comes over to you, he doesn’t take your order. Instead, he simply hands you a piece of paper.

Follow Mac, he will take you to where you need to be.

Furrowing your brow, the butler offers you his arm. Smiling at him, you say, “Hello, Mac.”

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N,” he says, escorting you across the dining area and out thru the back.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To eat breakfast, of course,” he chuckles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Slowly but surely, Mac leads you out of the back of the mansion, into an opening in the middle of the house. Looking up is the beautiful cloudless sky, and all around you are flowers and gardens and a gazebo with a porch swing.

Gasping at its beauty, Mac leads you thru the towering lilac vines and rose bushes, under a shrubbery tunnel, and out to the back of the huge opening in the middle of the home. And sitting there, amongst the lilies and carnations and tulips, is a table.

A table with food, and juice, and coffee, and fruit.

And still set for one.

As Mac pulls out your chair, he pours you some juice, fluffs out your napkin into your lap, and asks you if anything is missing. Lying to him, you shake your head no and he walks away.

Overwhelmed by the romance of it all, you smile and look down only to realize your hands are shaking. Taking a deep breath, you take a sip of your juice and dive into your breakfast. Something told you he was watching, and you didn’t want to appear ungrateful. So you plastered on a smile, and hoped that he was far enough away to not see your tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Making your way back to your room, you change out of your nice clothes and back into your nightgown. Turning to walk back out, you hear his voice.

“How did you enjoy breakfast?”

Sighing, you say, “It was wonderful, Spencer. Thank you so much. It was…just beautiful.”

“You always were a bad liar,” Spencer mused.

“Why won’t you let me see you?” the frustration starting to boil over. “I know you were burned, I know you have scars. I have scars as well. Knife punctures and bullet holes…why can’t I just see you?”

You hear his sigh, and when silence fills the room, you swing yourself around, pointing yourself towards the disembodied voice. “I know I said that you could rob me of your sight…but I suppose I was lying. Spencer, I have always cared for you. For the person that you are. How you look…it’s…it’s irrelevant! Just let me see you…”

“No,” he bites.

“Yes,” you shoot back.

“I…said…NO!” he yells as his fist slams into the wall.

Jumping, your hands start to shake again. Trying to coax you, he says, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Please, don’t be afraid. It’s still me. I’m still me.”

“No. No, you aren’t,” you shake your head as tears release themselves from your eyes. “You’ve allowed this experience, this experience that we all endured with you, to alter you in unimaginable ways. You reclused, I get that. You wanted time off, I get that. Spencer, you shut us out. We did not leave you. Hell, you didn’t even tell me you were being discharged! I stood at the foot of an empty hospital bed and cried over you!”

Throwing your arms out, you huff in exasperation. “We all thought we were going to lose you. We all tried to come visit you at your apartment. We all tried to send you care packages. And the only thing you did was throw it in our face. All of it. And now you’re angry with us because we shut you out!?”

As silence fills the end of Spencer’s argument, you hiss, “You’ve always been a shit liar, too.”

As you storm out of your room and slam the door, a stunned Spencer is left slouching in the corner of your room.

“What have I done?” he puts his head in his hands. “Dear God, what have I done?”


	3. Admission

Tearing thru the romance section of the library, you had hoarded there for days. Retreating to your room only to shower and change, you refused to speak out into the darkness. Whether you felt him, or saw him, you would speak.

But not a second before.

Giggling at a funny passage, you hear his voice for the first time in days.

“I thought you would like that particular passage.”

Looking around with a cocked eyebrow, you say, “You don’t read romance, how did you know where I was?”

“I read it last night, when you put it down to sleep.”

“Spencer, I put that book on my chest…”

After an uncomfortable pause, you go back to reading. Flipping over to a new chapter, you see a shadow shift in your direction.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” the voice says, growing nearer.

Feeling the hair stand up on your arm, you say, “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to get so angry with you.”

The truth is, you did. You wanted him to know how much he hurt you, how much he angered you.

But you hoped that you could coax him out of his darkness.

As the shadow grows closer to you, you take in a ragged breath. Soon, you could feel him standing behind you.

“I take it you want me to keep reading?” you snark.

“No, I want you to close your eyes.”

Shocked at his response, and furrowing your brow, you ease your eyes shut. Hearing his shuffling wrap around you, you feel his hands on your knees.

“S-Spencer…?” you stutter.

Staying silent, he grasps your hands and puts them on his face. Without saying a word, your fingers and thumbs slowly work around his face, feeling his scars. As your hands drift from his forehead, over his nose, and to his cheek bones, you slowly run your thumbs over his cheeks. You felt the smoothness of his right cheek, and the crevices of his left. Migrating to his lips, you pull your hands back. Grabbing your hands mid-yank, he pulls them slowly back to his lips and kisses your fingertips. “Feel me,” he encouraged.

Running your fingertips over his soft lips, you trace his jawline with you index fingers, letting the rest of your hand slowly drape down his neck. Feeling the scarring continuing to cascade, you massage his shoulders. You continue to move your hands down, raking your fingertips along his strong chest, your breath shuddering under the feeling of his body.

Giving him a weak smile, tears creep out of the slits of your eyes. “Oh, Spencer…” you whisper.

“It’s bad, Y/N,” his voice catches.

Shaking your head, you pull his face close to yours, noses slightly touching. “No,” you declare, “what’s bad is the nonexistent judgement you’ve tacked on to it.“

Feeling Spencer’s brow furrow, you open your eyes.

“No,” Spencer says breathlessly. Trying to back away from you, you tighten your grip around his face, refusing to let him go.

“What’s bad, Spencer, is the unintentional viewpoint that you assumed we would have, when all we ever wanted was to help.”

As his face flushes with anger and his eyes burn with tears, he yanks his head away. “I trusted you. I allowed you to touch…to see with your fingers…and instead you take advantage of my kindness and generosity.”

Shaking your head lightly, you say, “No, I did not. I took advantage of your weakness.”

And before Spencer could dash back into the darkness, you rise up on your legs and catapult yourself towards his body, wrapping your arms around his neck and diving into those beautiful lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling his heat pulsate thru your body, he wraps you up and pulls you close. Never wanting to let go, you trail kisses down his neck, caressing his scars with your fingertips. Slipping your hands under his shirt, you slowly run your fingertips up his abdomen, and that’s when you hit it.

More scarring.

Taking in the sheer span of scar tissue on his body, you pause for a split second, your lips trembling in sorrow.

Sighing, Spencer breaks the kiss and leans his forehead into yours.

“Told you.”

Shaking your head furiously, you wrap your arms around his back and hold him close. Your body trembling against his, you bury your face into his chest as he holds you close.

“I could’ve helped you, you know.”

Chuckling to himself, Spencer kisses the top of your head. “Look around you, Y/N. You already have.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally releasing his body, you take a step back and survey him. Those beautiful eyes, that playful grin, that wispy hair. He was just as you remembered him. Handsome, and intelligent, and strong.

“They’re bad, I know,” he mutters.

“That’s not what I was looking at,” you strain to say.

As Spencer furrows his brow, he asks, “then what are you looking at?”

Exasperation coursing through your body, you shake your head and laugh. “Do you really not know? Mr. Boy Wonder over here truly doesn’t know?”

Blinking, he stares at you and stays silent, lightly shrugging his shoulders.

Taking a step towards him, you reach out and take his hand. “I’m looking at you, Spencer. It’s been over a year. Over a year since I’ve seen your eyes, or ruffled your hair, or watched you talk…or seen you smile…”

Trailing off, he bends down and kisses your forehead, and before you can catch yourself, you whisper, “It’s been over a year since I’ve seen the man I love.”

And as the tears spill down your face…tears of happiness and joy and sexual desire and tension…Spencer picks you up in his arms and holds you close to his body.

“I love you, too, Y/N,” he softly says, walking you out of the library and up the stairs.


	4. Control

Stretching to greet the morning, you slowly roll over, only to hit something in your bed.

“Spencer…?” you whisper, eyes still closed.

Hearing a grunt, you feel a shift on the other side of the bed, followed swiftly by an arm draping over your stomach.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he croaks.

Smiling to yourself, you open your eyes, and laying beside you is your Spencer. Your intelligent, beautiful, reclusive, sexy Spencer.

“Will you have breakfast with me this morning?”

As Spencer turns to see the hurt in your eyes, he takes a deep breath as he runs his thumb across your cheek. “Oh, Y/N, how I have hurt you so.”

As you put your hand over his, you scoot closer to him. You want to feel his warmth, you want to soak up his beauty, you want to trace outlines of your name into his skin with your fingertips.

Giggling, he pulls away. “That tickles,” he swats at your arm.

“Oh, really?” you saw, wiggling your fingers and pulling yourself towards him.

“Y/N!” he screams, leaping out of the bed. Following his lead, you chase him around your room trying to tickle him before you look down and realize.

You’re naked.

As your eyes widen and your lips part, you dive back into the bed and roll up in the comforter.

Why are you naked!?

“Spencer…” you draw out. “Why am I naked…?”

As Spencer cocks an eyebrow, he grins slightly. “You don’t remember?” he asks.

Furrowing your brow, he inches closer to you. “Want me to help you jog your memory?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jolting awake, you sit straight up in bed. Looking over to the side of your bed, you realize you are alone.

Just a dream.

As you turn towards the clock, you realize it’s only 3 am. Getting out of bed and searching for your robe, you open your door and start for the library. You had hoped that when you fell asleep that Spencer would have stayed, but now knowing that he wasn’t there made you feel…empty.

And you decided to fill that void with books.

Opening the doors to the library, you start your routine of stoking a fire and putting on a pot of coffee. You had claimed this little nook as yours, and settled in with your blanket and your book just as the fire started to roar. It wasn’t long before you heard that voice.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

Getting up to fix your first cup of coffee, you say, “I’m fine, just a little lonely.”

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asks.

“No, on the contrary. I had an amazing dream.”

“Then why are you so sad?”

Hesitating, trying to formulate your answer as correct as possible, you settle with the phrase: “Because I woke up.”

Hearing no response, you sit down with your coffee and continue reading. But after the first 3 chapters, you feel a shift at your feet, and, looking up, you see Spencer. Sitting beside you.

“What was this wonderful dream about?”

Coffee cup paused mid-sip, you shift your feet so that he can sit more comfortably. Spencer then takes your feet and puts them in his lap, beginning to lightly rub them.

“Tell me,” he implores.

“I-it…” as you groan from the releasing pressure of the foot massage, Spencer chuckles.

“I woke up next to you,” was all you could get out.

“And…you enjoyed that? You didn’t feel…violated?”

Furrowing your brow, you open your eyes and look at him. “Why would I feel that way?”

Without missing a beat, Spencer replies, “Because when two people who are attracted to each other sleep in the same bed, violations of the body have a tendency to happen.”

Feeling your face flush with embarrassment, your skin starts to prickle.

And Spencer notices.

As he starts to run a finger up and down your leg that is prickling, you jerk it away, swinging your legs over the side of the chaise.

Your breath hitching in your throat, you draw in a ragged breath and let it out a little too loudly.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Spencer inquires, worried.

Looking over at him, you chuckle in exasperation. “You really have no idea, do you? What you do to me? What your touch does to me? What your lips could do to me? You have no idea, do you?”

As his eyes start to sparkle, he scoots a little closer to you. “If it’s anything like what yours does…what yours could do…then, yes. I do have an idea.”

As your eyes widen, Spencer backs away. “D-does that…are you ok with that?”

As he looks down at his hands, you are shocked at the complete change of character. Scooting closer to him, you envelope his hands with yours.

“Spencer? What do you want? What do you need? Tell me what you need. You’re acting so strange…and I’m worried.”

Looking at him, he slowly turns his gaze to you. Opening his mouth to say something, he shuts it quickly.

“Just say it,” you whisper to him.

“I don’t…I don’t want you to get scared,” Spencer says sheepishly.

Smiling weakly, you kiss him lightly on his cheek. “Trust me,” you plead.

“I need…” he begins.

And as you look anxiously at him, you squeeze his hands, imploring him to go on.

“I need to feel in control,” he closes his eyes, sighing.

As you search the side of his face with your eyes, you place your finger under his chin and tilt his gaze towards yours, and as his eyes meet yours, you slowly lower your lips onto his, sucking his luscious bottom lip into your mouth.

Feeling his body shudder into you, you whisper against his lips, “Then control me.”


	5. Secrets Revealed

Last night with Spencer had been eye opening. You had finally come to realize that most of the source of his anger had been a lack of control over how he felt…the turns his life had taken. You had stayed up comforting him, but when you both fell asleep on the chaise, you awoke once again alone.

Slowly shuffling to your room, you yawn as you click the light on. As you meander your way into the bathroom, something in the corner catches your eye.

A beautiful corset bodice dress.

Walking over to it, your eyes get wider and wider. A beautiful purple bodice, with intricate pearl beading lead into a gorgeous ball gown poof of tulle in shades of blue and yellow and red.

“Reminds me of a sunset,” Spencer says.

Jumping at his voice, you search around the room for him. “I-is…this for me?” you stammer.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, turning back towards the dress.

“I’ll see you at 7,” Spencer says.

And with that, the door shuts, and he is gone again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Walking around the mansion, coffee cup in hand, you speculate about tonight. About what wonderful treasures would be in store for a person in a dress like that. You had tried speaking out to Spencer all day, but it has been met only with silence.

Continuing to divert down halls, you see that one of them is blocked off. Walking up to the curtain, you pull it back, only to be met with a long, dark corridor.

Furrowing your brow, you start down the hallway. Little by little, you pass dimly lit lights on the wall, beckoning your curiosity. Then finally, after what seemed like miles, you reach a door.

One lonely, distressed door.

Holding your breath, you hear it creak open, and without missing a beat, dash into a dark corner. As the door continues to open, a shadowy figure emerges. The figure stops in his tracks, lifts his face and…wipes his cheeks?

As your eyes widen with realization, the tired looking figure turns and starts walking away from you. Out of sight, you dash into the room before the door can close itself shut. And that’s when you realize that you had found Spencer’s room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking around, you realize it’s the same setup as his former apartment. The same couch, the same bookshelves, the same little kitchen.

He’s recreated his home…

Walking around the faux-apartment, tears well in your eyes. Books strewn everywhere, dingy clothes slung over chairs, dirty dishes stacked in sinks. You understand, walking thru the space, that Spencer never wanted the house. He never wanted the space or the entertainment. He didn’t even want the lavishness.

All he wanted was his life back.

Dropping to your knees, you put your face in your hands and sob. You sob for Spencer’s past, you sob for his hurt, and you even sob for his reclusiveness.

Snot dripping down your face, you go to pick yourself up off of the floor…

…and then the doorknob turns.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Putting your hands over your mouth, you dash to a closet and hide. Trying to get control of your heaves and ragged breaths, Spencer walks in.

“I hope she’s ok,” you heard him say.

Who is he talking to?

As Spencer sighs, he flops down on his couch. Kicking his shoes off, he props his feet up and grabs a book next to him. Reading a few pages, he sighs in frustration and puts the book down.

Getting up, he paces the apartment.

“I want tonight to be perfect,” he starts. “I want her to feel like a queen. Like she is the most beautiful woman on earth.”

Smiling, you listen to him continue.

“But I can’t find her. I left her the jewelry and she is nowhere to be found. I haven’t heard her speak, or scream. She isn’t in the library…” he paces faster.

Jewelry?

“Where is she!?” he yells, slamming his fists into his coffee table.

Jumping, you gasp, only to slap your hand over your mouth.

As Spencer stops in his tracks, he turns and looks around the apartment.

“Hello?” he bellows.

Holding your breath, your knees start to tremble. You started praying to whatever deity exists that he wouldn’t find you here.

“I know you’re here, so just come out.”

But still, you didn’t move.

As Spencer’s gaze turns toward the closet door, you back up and press yourself against the wall behind you, only for it to give way slightly.

A door?

As Spencer’s hand reaches out for the knob, you slip into the empty space and close the wall door, just as Spencer whips the closet open.

And as he is met with an empty space, you turn around, realizing that what you’ve stepped into is a long, narrow passageway, with split-offs and diversions in every direction.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After walking for well over an hour, you’ve discovered something.

You realize that this is how Spencer is talking to you.

All of these corridors led throughout the mansion, into every room and behind almost every mirror. Thank god the bathroom mirrors weren’t two-way. It made this feel slightly less creepy.

But only slightly.

Getting claustrophobic, you look for a way out. Any way that didn’t require backtracking to Spencer’s room. And just as you were about to Kool-Aid man your way thru the wall, you found a small door.

Opening the door, you find clothes.

Your clothes.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you close the small door behind you and throw open the closet doors. Breathing heavy and shaking, you stumble over to the bathroom door, but just before you can get it open, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Hello, Y/N.”


	6. Magical

Opening your mouth, you search for the right words. Something to help you back-peddle out of the atrocious situation you have found yourself in. Spencer, with his knowing eyes and the cock in his hip, stares at you with his stormy eyes.

Not knowing what to say, you straighten up your posture. After all, he is the one that’s been sneaking around in the corridors, watching you do god-knows-what during god-knows-when.

“Hello, Spencer,” you said.

“Did you…find what you were looking for?” Spencer asked.

“That’s assuming you thought I was looking for something specific,” you retort.

As Spencer cocks an eyebrow, he takes a deep breath. “Well, I brought you something.”

That’s it?

As Spencer steps to the side, you see the two boxes sitting on your bed with a bow. Slowly walking over to them, you pick up the bigger one, opening it slowly to reveal a beautiful teardrop necklace.

Gasping, you set it down gently and open the smaller one, revealing matching teardrop earrings.

“Oh, Spencer…” you sigh.

Feeling guilt-ridden, you set them down on the bed and turn towards him. How beautiful he looks in the dim light of your room.

“I was wandering the mansion, and I found a corrider tha-”

Spencer holds up his hand to stop you from talking. Slowly walking towards you, he dips down and lightly kisses you on your cheek, brushing his nose against your earlobe.

“I have wandered these corridors for two weeks now, speaking to you from areas you could not see. Leaving things in your room when you are asleep. I have no box on which to stand with this blossoming argument.”

As your lip starts to quiver lightly, you take your hand and cup his face. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

And as he draws you close to his body, wrapping his long arms around you and squeezing you close, he kisses the top of your fuzzy, dust-filled head.

“As am I.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Glancing at the clock, you realize that it’s 6:30. Rushing out of the bathroom whilst hooking your new earrings into your ear, you slip your robe off and venture over to your dress. You slowly take it off of the rack and step into it, one leg, then two legs, and shimmy it up over your hips, finally covering your breasts.

You had realized earlier that you would need someone to help you lace up the back of the dress, and wanting to completely surprise Spencer, you tracked down Mac. Calling out for Mac, he comes in and starts to lace up the back of your dress.

“Are you excited, Miss Y/L/N?”

“You are more than welcome to call me Y/N, Mac…and yes, I am very excited. And a bit anxious. Do you know what’s going on tonight?” you inquire.

“I have been sworn to secrecy,” Mac chuckles. “But I can tell you this. You are going to love it.”

Giggling, Mac tucks in the excess ribbon after tying a bow at the end of your corset. Zipping up the little zipper on the tulle gown, he slowly spins you around.

“You look incredible, Y/N.”

Smiling at the use of your name, you look at the clock. 6:53.

“Shall we?” Mac holds out his arm.

“You are such a gentleman,” you dote on Mac, taking his arm and placing a light kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the help,” you lower your voice.

“Anytime,” he smiles and winks.

And as the two of you started for the stairs, what you didn’t expect was for Spencer to be waiting at the bottom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As your eyes widen at his sight, your knees start to tremble. You had never seen him in a tuxedo, and your eyes enjoyed the way he filled one out nicely, perfectly tailored to his body.

“I think I can take it from here, Mac,” Spencer says with a wink, and as you feel Mac’s arm release you, you slowly start walking down the stairs.

Spencer comes up to meet you halfway, and offers you his hand. “You look…breath-taking, Y/N.”

Still speechless, you take his hand, squeezing it in gratitude, and continue to walk with him, hand in hand, down the stairs.

“W-where are we going?” you finally managed to choke out.

“To the ballroom,” Spencer said matter-of-factly.

“There’s a ballroom!?” you gasped.

Laughing, Spencer says, “you know, for someone who bought this house, you don’t know much about it.”

Giggling at the reality of that statement, you blush and look down. Spencer stops in his tracks, turns you towards him, and lifts your gaze to meet his.

“Never look down. It denotes a sense of insecurity. And you are beautiful. And strong. And intelligent. You, of all people, should always hold your head high.”

Blinking back tears, you say, “Spencer, this makeup isn’t waterproof.”

Grinning at you, he kisses your forehead lightly and continues to usher you towards the ballroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Entering the ballroom, it’s completely dark. No lights, no sounds, no movements.

“Spencer…?” your voice flutters.

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” Spencer coos, rubbing your arm with his free hand to comfort you.

As he leads you into what you assume is the middle of the room, he stops.

“Wait right here.”

Reaching for his grasp that is no longer there, you hear him jog off into the distance. Shuffling from foot to foot, you were about to call out to him until the sound of music came on, followed swiftly by the lights.

And when your eyes adjusted, you realize that you are standing in a huge room. A huge, beautiful area, with floor to ceiling stained-glass windows wrapping all around the circular room, and ornate painting canvassing the ceiling.

Standing in awe, jaw dropped to the floor, Spencer wraps his arm around you from behind, pulls your back close to his chest, and slowly starts to sway with you.

“The night is ours, Y/N.”

Closing your eyes, feeling his heartbeat on your shoulder, you sway lightly to the beautiful music in the background, soaking up his heat and his ambiance and his presence.

He slowly twirls you, wrapping his arm around your waist and placing his hand on the small of your back, pulling you close to him. He places his cheek on the top of your head, and as you lean your cheek into his chest, he wraps both arms around you to draw you close.

“This is beautiful, Spencer,” you whisper.

You are met with a squeeze, and as you look up at Spencer, you realize that tears are streaking his cheeks.

Furrowing your brow, you reach up and wipe the trails away.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

Smiling down at you, he says, “Absolutely nothing. That’s the point. You are here, and you are happy, and you are beautiful, and it’s all I have ever wanted. You, happy, in my arms.”

Smiling up at him, tears now streaking your cheeks as well, you press your body back into his and continue to sway to the music, losing yourself in his warmth and his grace.


	7. The Team?

As you lay in bed, reminiscing over your night with Spencer, your phone vibrates.

“Hello?” you muse over the phone.

“Y/N?”

Eyes widening, you realize it’s Hotch. “Y/N? You there?” he says.

Stammering for your words, you try to catch yourself. In this beautiful world that Spencer had created for you, you had forgotten about the outside world.

About your life.

“We’re all worried,” Hotch says. “We’ve tried calling you. We understand that you need your space after all that has traversed with this team over the past year, but you didn’t show up for work today. What’s going on?”

More anger than concern, with a splash of curiosity, you have absolutely no idea what to tell them. Palms starting to sweat, your mouth goes dry as you feel the phone slowly slipping from your hand.

“Aaron?” Spencer says into the phone.

Silence.

“Aaron, are you there?”

Looking up at Spencer in complete astonishment, Spencer holds the phone down and presses the speaker phone button.

“S-Spencer…?”

As you hear everyone gasp in the background, you hear a click, denoting a speakerphone situation on Hotch’s end, and as you stare at Spencer’s face, freely talking to the team he shut out over a year ago, he begins to explain the last three weeks of his life.

Of your life.

Of both of your lives.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“…and we danced the night away tonight. Hotch, it’s my fault that she didn’t get into work. I brought her here, hoping she would never leave, and in the process we sort of…forgot…about the outside world.”

Hearing nothing but sniffles and hiccups on the other end of the line, you finally chime in.

“Hotch, I-I’m…I’m so sorry I lost track of time,” you croak.

“Don’t you dare be sorry,” Hotch says. “You can make it up to me by helping me with some paperwork.”

Rolling your eyes and sighing, you feign frustration. “Well, I gueeeeeess, if I haaaaaave to.”

Hearing chuckling from over the phone, everyone starts in on how much they’ve missed Spencer, and how they wish they could see him, and how they have so much to tell him. Slowly getting up from the bed, you walk over to your wardrobe and pull out some pajamas. In your reminiscing, you had flopped down on the bed with your dress still on.

As you are getting comfortable, you realize that Spencer is staring at you. Feeling your skin flush, you look at him over your shoulder, and as everyone’s voices started to slowly fade into the background, the only thing you found yourself thinking about is how much you would miss him at work.

“So, Y/N,” Hotch steers the conversation back on track, “I expect you into work tomorrow morning, and then after work we could come to my house or go back to your apartment and work on this paperwork.”

“No,” Spencer states.

Eyes widening, there is silence over the phone. “But Spencer…” you trail off.

“You will do the paperwork here.”

“What!?“ you exclaim.

“Hotch, bring the team. I’ll have the kitchen make dinner. You can do the paperwork here.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The workday flew by in a haze. You still couldn’t believe that Spencer had agreed, out of nowhere, to have the team come over. But you kept forewarning them, saying that Spencer may not even show his face. You told them about the whole first week, how you had to fight, and basically force, your way into seeing him. They hung onto every word, relished in every story, and as you continued to recant your vacation to them throughout the day, it was plain to see just how much they had all missed Spencer.

Helping Hotch with all of the paperwork, everyone climbs into their respective vehicles and follows you to his home. Coming thru the wrought iron gates, you drive them up the massive driveway lined with trees and shrubbery, wishing whole-heartedly that you could see their expressions.

You park and get out of your car, waiting for them before approaching the door. Turning to them, you say, “I’m serious. Don’t get your hopes up.”

And just as you turn towards the door, Spencer opens up says, “About what?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Standing in utter shock, your jaw unhinges as the team pummels Spencer. One by one, with hugs and kisses and handshakes and tears, the members relish in Spencer’s presence. J.J. fingers his scars lightly on his forehead, Morgan picks him up and swings him around, and Rossi even embraces him and gives him a kiss on his scarred-up cheek.

And you stand there, rooted to the ground, dumbfounded.

“7 days!” you yell.

Everyone turns towards you, and Spencer furrows his brow as you continue with your outburst.

“7 days it took me! 7 days, a full-blown fight, and a forceful situation for you to face me! And they’ve been here, what, 7 seconds!?”

Watching Spencer’s face soften with the realization of what you are feeling, he slowly steps down and walks towards you. He couldn’t imagine how hurt you were, how willing he was to see them face-to-face, but had made you wait and fight for so long before even touching him. Reaching out for your face, you take a step backwards.

“Why…?” you choke out. “Why was it so much work for me, but not for them? Why did you make me fight for it, but not them? Am I…” swallowing hard, you continue, “…am I not as important?”

Bowing your head in hurt, Spencer’s eyes fill with tears. After everything he has done…after the library and the dinners and the lavishness and the dancing, he saw that you still didn’t get it. You didn’t understand that it was never about them. He never wanted their pity looks or their sage advice or their generic “go get ‘ems.” Him not returning to work was never about them. Hell, it was never even about himself.

It was about you.

It had always been about you.

It was only you whose presence he couldn’t be in. It was only you that he couldn’t bear to face. It was only you that he had ever wanted to avoid. Because it was only your opinion of him that mattered. Your face was the only face he saw in that fire. Your voice was the only voice he heard thru the crackling flames. 

And as he stood, rooted to his spot, he finally realized that you still didn’t get it. And that it wasn’t because he wasn’t giving you enough, and it wasn’t because these 3 weeks had made up the last year and a half, and it wasn’t even the fact that you didn’t love him.

It was because he hadn’t said it. It was because he hadn’t told you how broken he had been. How upside down his life had turned. How broken his spirit had become…and you were the only one who was capable of fixing it.

But he yearns for you to know. He was desperate for you to know. He was aching for you to understand that the fighting and the hesitation and the second-guessing wasn’t because you don’t matter, but because you are the one who matters the most.

Reaching down with his long, strong arms, he wraps them around your waist and picks you up, dropping your lips into his from above in a time-stopping, head-spinning crash of forgiveness and lust. Wrapping your legs around his waist, he dips you down, supporting your neck with his hand, teeth clattering together in an attempt to savor every part of your mouth with his tongue.

And as your body starts to shake, he comes up for air, holding you as close as he physically can. With the team smiling in the background, Morgan clears his throat.

“Anything you wanna say, pretty boy?”

“Yes, yes there is,” he says, as he puts you down and looks you in your eyes.

“Oh, so much…” he whispers, using his gentle fingers to push the loose hair out of your face and behind your ear.

“Can it wait until after dinner!?” Garcia shouts.

Giggling at Garcia’s inclination, you dip your head down, a shy grin on your face, and shuffle from foot to foot. “Let them eat,” you whisper. “We can talk later.”

And as Spencer moves to stand beside you, slipping his arm around your waist, he looks at the team and says, “Mi casa es su casa. Let’s eat.”


	8. Love

Walking out of the house, you are exhausted. It is close to midnight, and the paperwork you had helped Hotch with took entirely too long. About halfway thru, you were thankful that you had agreed to help him, because had he done it himself, he would have never gotten any rest tonight.

Watching Spencer hug everyone close, they linger and thank him for dinner. Hotch was still trying to convince him to come back to work, but Spencer kept dodging his request all evening.

“This team needs you. It always has,” Hotch says. “You have always been a vital part of this time, Reid.”

“I know, but that’s not where my life lies anymore…”

As he slowly glances over to you, you cock your head in confusion.

“We would allow the romance, Reid,” Hotch says. “We just wouldn’t pair you two in the field together.”

As Spencer loses himself in the thought of you, Hotch pats him on the back.

“Just promise me you’ll think about it.”

As Spencer comes to, he nods his head slowly. “Promise.”

As everyone starts to meander to their cars, you fumble in your purse for your keys. Getting frustrated, you huff just before you hear a jingle off in the distance.

Snapping your head up, Spencer is grinning, swinging your keys from his finger.

“Looking for these?”

Breathing a sigh of…not relief?…you slowly head over to him to take your keys, but he yanks them behind his back before you can grasp them.

“Spencer, I’m tired…” you trail off, your darkened eyes giving away your exhaustion.

“Just come inside,” Spencer urges. “You have a room here, and you can go to work from here in the morning. You are exhausted, Y/N.”

And as he puts his hand on the small of your back, you allow him to guide you back inside the house. Back into the world you wished you never had to leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After slipping into your pajamas, you ease under the covers. You felt your eyes already fluttering shut, until you felt a warmth beside you in bed. Rolling over to see what was happening, you watch as Spencer slides under the covers, lowering himself to the bed.

“Spencer?” you ask.

“If you have a little more energy in you, I want to say something.”

“Spencer, I-”

Cutting you off with a kiss, he pulls back and whispers, “Just listen.”

Nodding lightly, he starts. “You are incredibly important.”

Furrowing your brow, energy comes flooding back into your system.

“You are the most important.”

As he searches your eyes for any sort of reaction, he sighs and continues. “Y/N, you had to fight as much as you did because…because your reaction was the one that mattered most. And…I was concerned that you…that you would find me…”

“…ugly?” you finish his sentence.

Smiling weakly, he chuckles. “Yes. I was scared that after all we had been thru, after the friendship we had developed…that you would no longer want me around. That you would no longer want to be around me…be with me…now that I am broken, physically and emotionally.”

Tears spring to your eyes. “So…the rest of the team’s opinion doesn’t matter? Spencer, I know that’s not true.”

“No no, it does. They do matter, but in a…friendly way. In a confidant sort of way. But yours…yours matters in a…”

As he trails off, you hang onto his every word, wishing and hoping and willing him to say it.

“Your opinion of me matters in a…life partner sort of way.”

Holding your breath, you don’t want to move, fearing that if you do he will stop.

“Your opinion matters in a lovers way. In the way a husband looks at his wife after disappointing her, in hopes that he will still find redemption in her eyes. Their opinion matters in a trust sort of way…but yours…yours, Y/N, matters in a foundation sort of way.”

Hardly able to contain your emotion any longer, you let out a slight whimper. Biting your lower lip, you crash your body into his and hold him close. You want to steal his warmth and simultaneously radiate how much you care for him.

How much you need him.

How much you love him.

After what seems like hours of silence, Spencer finally breaks the spell. “Stay with me,” he pleads.

Lightly crying into the crook of his neck, you whisper, “I can’t. I have a job. A life. I can’t coop myself up here any longer.”

Pulling you back and sitting you up, Spencer looks you dead in your eyes, “I didn’t ask you to give up your life. I just…”

Furrowing your brow, you ask, “Spencer…do you want me t-…to move in with you?”

Letting out the breath he had been holding, he wraps his arms around you. “Yes. That is exactly what I’m asking.”

And as you sat there in bed, embraced by the man who would forever define the word “dedication” in your dictionary, you slowly slide your hands under his shirt, running your fingers up and down the curve of his back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up the next morning to your alarm, you groan and toss your phone into the corner. Tossing the blankets off of your form, you stretch, feeling the digits of your spine pop with every movement. “Oh yeah,” you grunt as you finish stretching, and as your hand falls back to the bed, it knocks up against something hard.

Yelping, you jump out of bed as the solid object beside of you groans with the impact of your elbow. Ripping the comforter off of the bed, your eyes widen as you realize Spencer is in the bed.

“S-Spencer…?” you trail off.

Groaning, he covers his body with his arms. “It’s freezing, Y/N. What gives?”

I didn’t sleep alone last night?

Scrambling to retrieve the comforter, you fluff it out over Spencer and let it slowly fall back onto his body. Still in shock, you slowly slip back into bed, nuzzling your way into his arms.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Spencer whispers, kissing your ear and the side of your neck.

Watching the hairs stand up on your arm, you giggle as you wiggle your butt back into his body. “Good morning, handsome,” you rebuttal.

“If you keep shaking that butt we are gonna have problems,” Spencer jokes.

“Oh, really?” you say, playfully cocking an eyebrow and moving your tush around faster.

Hearing Spencer’s breathing slowly pick up, you start to grind a little slower into his pelvic area. Hearing his breath hitch, he reaches his head over and playfully sinks his teeth into your neck.

Moaning lightly, you toss your head back, and, allowing him to slowly turn you over, he continues to leave bite marks, climbing on top of you like a lion to his prey.

As he slides his hand down your leg, he brings it up and wraps it around his waist, pressing his body into yours, allowing you to feel his length throbbing at your entrance. Using your free foot, you try to slide his boxers down…trying to free him from the only piece of clothing separating him from you…and as his boxers cascade to the floor, he dips down for a passionate kiss, swallowing your groans as he enters your body.


	9. Epilogue

“Now you know that I can’t put you on the same team,” Hotch looked from you to Spencer and back again. “One of you will always have to stay back at wherever we deem HQ, and if I need everyone out in the field, you two will never be paired together.”

As you both nod your heads in understanding, you both stay silent. You were still shell-shocked that Spencer had come into work. One day you were eager to get home to him, and the next morning he is sitting coffee on your desk with his gun holstered to his hip.

“We understand,” Spencer speaks for you both.

“I’ll notify HR of your change of relationship, and of your return,” Hotch lightly smiles.

As the three of you stand there in his office, J.J. knocks on the door. “Meeting in 10 guys.”

Everyone was ecstatic when Spencer stepped off of the elevator. His face was still red from all of the kisses the gals gave him, and you were trying your best not to allow your body to physically vibrate from the happiness it gave you that he was back.

That he was allowing his life to continue.

Stepping out of Hotch’s office, you turn and look at Spencer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

As he turns to look at you halfway down the stairs, he says, “Because I was scared that if I did, that I would try to convince myself of the horrible idea that it was.”

Slowly nodding your head, you realize that you still had much to learn about the young doctor. Finally venturing down the steps, you go to grab your coffee before bounding back up, 2 by 2, into the meeting room. Taking a seat on the other end of the table as Spencer, you want to give the team time at his side as well.

After all, you did get to go home to him every evening.

“Alright,” Garcia comes in from the side door. “We have a terrible one guys,” she says with a frown.

“When are they never terrible?” Prentiss asks.

As Garcia strikes up the presentation on the board, you see flashing pictures of bodies, blood splatter, and potential suspects. But you could not get your mind off of him.

And it had been getting worse.

You found him in everything. His smell was on your clothes, his hair was in your brush, you saw him in the coffee you had during your mid-day slump, and in the flights you took with the empty seat he used to occupy…and now? Now he was back at work, spouting off his facts and making connections where no one else sees them and all the while…your stomach flutters.

You had it bad for the doctor.

And you loved it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wheels up in 30,” Hotch says. As the team gathers their papers and dash for their go bags, Spencer comes meandering over to you.

“Hello, beautiful,” he says, dipping down to lightly kiss your cheek.

“Hello, perfect,” you giggle, his hair tickling the back of your neck.

“Is this…ok?” he asks hesitantly, sitting down next to you, his hand on the back of your chair. “Me, being back at work with you?”

Furrowing your brow, you put your hand on his knee. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well, I just-” he stops.

“Spencer, you being here is incredible. Look at how they’ve missed you!”

“I just don’t…” he stops again.

“I know,” you cup his cheek in your hand, “You don’t want to somehow invalidate my space that I have from you by now being around at work and at home.”

Looking at you with his mouth slightly open, you lean in, wink, and say, “You aren’t the only smart one around here.”

Hearing his laugh was something you loved. It was light and fluffy, and you knew that this was one more step to him reclaiming the life that he left, and slowly stepping into the life that he wants.

“Spencer, this step was important for you. This is one step closer to you finally living the life that you have always wanted for yourself. And I am happy…no, honored…to be a part of it.”

Realizing that Hotch is standing at the door smiling, you clear your throat and blush. “I’ll see you on the plane,” you whisper at him, bringing his hand up to your lips for a light kiss. Getting up to leave the room, you nod in acknowledgement to Hotch before slipping past him to go get your bag.

“So,” Hotch breaks the silence, “how does it feel to be back?” he asks, going and sitting in the seat you were just occupying.

“It feels…”Spencer pauses, “right.”

“I’m glad. You’ve been missed, Reid,” Hotch says, putting his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Take this as slow as you want. There is no rush to do a full week of work, and there is no rush to do an entire case. If you ever feel overwh-”

As Spencer puts his hand up, Hotch stops talking. “This is right where I need to be. And I have the added bonus of being able to protect Y/N. You know, when I can.”

Hotch nods in understanding, and as the two get up from their seats, something tumbles from Spencer’s pocket.

“Oh, here you go,” Hotch says, bending down to pick it up, and as he holds out the little box in his hand, Hotch’s eyes widen as he meets Spencer’s gaze.

After the two stand in silence for a bit, Spencer snatches it out of his hand and shoves it back into his pocket.

“D-do you…” Spencer clears his throat. “Do you think she’ll say yes?”

Smiling broadly, Hotch throws his arm around Spencer’s shoulder. As they look over the balcony, down at the team, you look up at them and wave.

“I think she already has,” he says.


End file.
